Missed Opportunities
by vonbee
Summary: Following Obi-Wan's desperate mission to try to save his beloved Duchess Satine, well we all know how that turned out... the Jedi Knight needs some time to reflect.
1. Chapter 1

_Set shortly after the events of the Season 5 episode 'The Lawless'. Obi-Wan's desperate mission to try to save his beloved Duchess Satine, well we all know how that turned out... I seem unable to resist a bit of Obi-Wan angst. _

_I own nothing; Star Wars characters and universe created by a certain Mr G. Lucas c/o Skywalker Ranch, USA. I'm sure George and our new overlords at Disney wouldn't mind me playing with their toys. _

VonB

**Missed opportunities**

_Sometimes heroes fall, despite their strength._

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi hadn't planned on having breakfast in a less than salubrious part of Coruscant. But when the Jedi Knight had taken a seat in the corner booth he'd felt the closest to calm he'd been in far too long.

Dex's Diner was an unusual haunt for a Jedi, but Obi-Wan had visited often enough for his unexpected drop-ins to cause little interest from the regulars. No one stared and no one would dare disturb him. Being close friends with the management had some perks.

He'd caught sight of his old friend through the hatch into the kitchen as he'd entered. The Besalisk had smiled broadly at the sight of him and shouted a welcome. _"Take a seat Obi-Wan, be with ya as soon as I've finished feeding this hoard'a hungry space monkeys."_ He'd gestured to the growing crowd of patrons with one hand whilst another was busy flipping nerf patties on a griddle, his other two were occupied with a bowl and whisk, mixing something vigorously. Obi-Wan had paused for a moment to just to watch; ever impressed with the maelstrom of action that was Dexter Jettster.

At his booth a whirl of motion beside him signalled the arrival of WA-7. Without even coming to a stop the service droid deposited him a drink. "_Your usual honey."_ She was already past the next table before he'd been able say thank you. He hadn't realised he even _had_ a usual. Obi-wan clasped his hands around the steaming hot mug of dark liquid and gave it a cautious sniff _chava chava?_He might be brave enough to try it when it cooled a little.

The diner's prime location on the surface guaranteed a steady flow of customers regardless of the hour. Breakfast though was always particularly busy, attracting those just finishing a night shift or preparing themselves for the day ahead. Music blared out from the juke box, competing with the rising clamour of conversations**. **Obi-Wan closed his eyes. The cacophony was oddly soothing, the noises and smells all so vital and vibrant. For a moment he felt so very far away from the war, so far away from all the death.

Only a few hours before he'd met with Master Yoda. Though his mission to Mandalore had not been sanctioned by the Jedi Council, its leader had not prevented him from responding to Duchess Satine's desperate plea for aid. Obi-Wan would be forever grateful for that, despite the tragedy that had followed. _Despite his failure_.

He'd sat crossed legged before Master Yoda and delivered his discoveries and the revelation of the fate of Mandalore and its leader. His Jedi training making it so easy to detach himself from his experiences and report events factually and stoically. Underneath the surface though his grief was still raw and he knew Master Yoda could sense it.

"_Wrong the Chancellor was to dismiss the threat posed by Maul. Suffered greatly as a consequence Mandalore has." _Master Yoda had said gravely. _"Blame yourself you must not."_

Master Yoda had gone on to repeat those words he'd heard him speak too many times when dealing with the loss of someone whom a Jedi had allowed to become close. "_Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them not. Miss them not."_

As always there was the underlying warning that a Jedi should not form attachments. That the fear of losing someone and the inevitable grief and sense of loss that followed would lead them down an inevitable path to the dark side. Obi-Wan had listened, but for the first time he knew that in this, for once Master Yoda was mistaken. His _attachment_ to Satine had been his saving. Seeing her love for him, unconditional to the end, had kept him to the light in those terrible last moments.

Obi-Wan had left Master Yoda's chamber still troubled, and knowing that he would find no peace in the Jedi Temple that night he had just carried on walking. He'd dismissed Anakin's well-meaning and far too understanding concern, he wasn't ready to discuss what had happened with his former Padawan. He needed time alone with just his thoughts, but at same time didn't want to be isolated in meditation in his chamber.

Taking a speeder from the Temple he'd joined the constant throng of vehicles threading their way through the Coruscant skyline. The dawn was just beginning to break but the Jedi was oblivious to the play of light that made the buildings seem to glow with the first rays of the sun. He'd flown aimlessly through the swarming traffic. Shifting his speeder upwards into a faster lane he'd chanced to look up and was met by a sight that made his heart clench in shock.

The image of Duchess Satine, fifteen meters high glowed in front of him.

Every holonet news screen that hung over the traffic lanes showed Satine in her full ceremonial attire looking as regal and full of life as he remembered her. The screens flickered and she was replaced by the solemn face of Chancellor Palpatine. But Obi-Wan had been deaf to the grave voice announcing the news of the fall of Mandalore and its ruler, cruel memories suddenly overwhelming him. _Satine suspended in the air…the darksaber blade… Maul's twisted taunting face…_ Obi-Wan had felt an almost physical pain in his chest, a wave of grief so tangible that he felt as if he had left a part of him behind on Mandalore.

The screech of horns and the blinding white beams of headlights directly ahead had startled him back to the moment. With effort he'd cleared his thoughts and reached out to the Force for stability. He'd felt its reassuring presence and allowed it to guide himto where he needed to be. Obi-Wan had even found himself smiling when the familiar landmarks of CoCo Town came into view and he brought the speeder down neatly in the parking lot of Dex's Diner. That the Force had led him to Dex's door was something he wasn't going to tell his friend, he'd never hear the last of it.

The diner was filling up beings from every corner of the Republic. Obi-Wan was oblivious the covetous glances of a few of the newcomers towards the empty seats at his booth. He didn't notice their surprise when they recognised the solo occupant as Jedi and whilst making the near simultaneous decision to leave him alone. Undisturbed, Obi-Wan allowed himself to think those most troubling of thoughts that Master Yoda would have him push from his mind…

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Part two

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

_There is no passion; there is serenity._

_There is no chaos; there is harmony._

_There is no death; there is the Force._

Darth Maul was dead. He had died on Naboo. Obi-Wan Kenobi had killed him. Simple statements that had, until a few months ago been undisputed facts. _Never underestimate the power of the dark side, Jedi._ Despite the dinner's warm and stuffy air Obi-Wan felt suddenly chilled. Maul's continued existence was nothing but horrifying. Not even being cut in two by a lightsaber had silenced him. The Zabrak had kept himself alive for a decade through pure hatred and rage, becoming an abomination against life itself.

Because of his failure all those years ago, all that had transpired since Maul's unlikely resurrection had been his fault. He shook his head, disgusted with himself. Obi-Wan knew how irrational that line of thinking was and felt ashamed for his arrogance. He was letting grief cloud his thoughts, just as Master Yoda had cautioned him against.

It wasn't the Jedi way to dwell on past actions. Acknowledge, accept, and move forward, simple. But that wasn't coming to him as easily as it should for a Jedi Master. Too many questions and doubts churned in his mind. Thoughts unbecoming of Jedi Knight had tormented him during his long, solitary journey from Mandalore.

Obi-Wan brought his mug of chava chava to his lips and took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste. The Force hadn't led him to Dex's for a pick me up, he was quite sure of that. He needed to find his balance again, his focus. Glancing up at the bustling diner around him he sighed, he might be here for a while.

A flash of flame caught his eye and he turned his head in time to witness Dex slinging a blazing pan across the kitchen into a sink, accompanying it with a few choice curses. Hoots of laughter and applause from some of the regular diners were rewarded by some more colorful words from Dex. But Obi-Wan didn't hear them, instead his senses fixed on the sound of the hot metal hissing as it hit the water, the sight of smoke and smell of burning before the emergency extractors kicked in.

He remembered Mandalore.

He remembered kneeling in the embers of the shattered _Twilight_ as debris rained down, unable to reach Satine lying barely meters away. How Maul had emerged out from the smoke and chaos triumphant. It was at that moment Obi-Wan had realised with utter certainty that he'd been played. That everything had been carefully choreographed for Maul's final revenge against him.

If only Satine had warned him that Maul was involved. He would have been more prepared, and then maybe, just maybe the outcome could have been different.

_If only? _If only was for younglings and dreamers and he'd been neither of those for a very long time. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, as he released it slowly he sought the stillness in the noise and activity around him. He had to stop brooding like an immature young Padawan. If he was ever going to find peace with what had happened then he had to face the torment of those what ifs and maybes.

He knew where to begin, the moment he first saw Satine's message, the moment the trap had been baited…


	3. Chapter 3

Part three

"_This is a message for Obi-Wan Kenobi. I've lost Mandalore. My people have been massacred, and Almec is now the Prime Minister. I can't explain everything now, but Almec has the support of the crime families. Obi-Wan, I need your help."_

The message had been short and urgent, Satine's desperation clear. The frozen holo-image of Satine on her knees surrounded by the blasters of the Deathwatch was like a nightmare given form. Obi-Wan had stood between Master Yoda and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi amazed that the two Jedi could not hear the pounding of his heart.

"_Your thoughts on this, Master Kenobi?"_ Yoda had asked him, but it was as _General Kenobi _that he'd replied. Too easily could he become the battled hardened warrior of the Clone Wars, weighing the strategic implications of the message and offering a calculated response.

_Master Kenobi_ knew far too well that politics would prevent the Jedi taking action. Felt the frustration of the Jedi being unable to meet their fundamental drive to help those in need regardless of who they were.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_ the man had wanted to reach out to the delicate figure in the holo-image, as if to cross the parsecs between them in an instant and remove her from harm. He couldn't ignore the fact that the message had been intended for him and him alone. That as her world literally fell down around her, Satine needed _him_. Regardless of the undefined nature of their relationship, the taboos and obligations that had divided them all those years ago, he had to help her. Whatever they had shared in the past now owed a debt to the present.

So when Master Ki-Adi-Mundi had left to arrange a meeting with the Chancellor's office, Obi-Wan had turned to Yoda, ready to argue his case for going to Mandalore alone. But the ever astute Jedi had anticipated his appeal, _"Go, be cautious, be discreet. Intervene if you can, aware that you will be alone with no aid to help you, you must be." _It had been all that he could do not to run from the room.

Now only days after that fateful meeting Obi-Wan sat in Dex's Diner, nursing the dregs of the bitter chava chava from the mug in his hand.

Hindsight was cruel. He now understood how intrinsically linked he had been to the fall of Mandalore and the loss of all that Duchess Satine had worked so hard to build.

If only Satine had asked the Republic directly for help instead of a making a personal plea to him. Surely the Senate would have taken action? But he knew far too well that the machine of state was slow to turn, so that by the time any consensus had been reached, it would have been far too late.

If only he hadn't drawn the simple conclusion that it was an internal matter. He'd been so quick to assume it was an escalation of the ambitions of Death Watch. He'd had no reason to believe otherwise given Mandalore's recent history of conflicts. But he _should_ have made the connection when Satine mentioned the crime families' involvement. He had even discussed his fears that Maul could flourish in the underworld with Master Yoda following his last encounter with the Sith on Florrum.

He'd been right and hadn't even realised it.

He should have realised it would take a more powerful leader to draw together the crime families than the ambitious yetdeluded Pre Viszla and treacherous Almec.

If only Satine had just said _Maul. _Just the name of the Sith Lord would have been enough for the Jedi Council to become involved regardless of politics. Hadn't Yoda reassured him of that after his last encounter with Maul? _"In time, if he lives, reveal himself again, Maul will. And then swiftly we shall act."_

But Satine hadn't known the significance of Maul. With the chaos all around her what was one crime lords name to her? Obi-Wan rued the Jedi Council's reluctance to broadcast to all the very palpable threat posed by the Sith.

If only the Jedi Council had stood fast against the Chancellor and not agreed to disregard the threat posed by Maul and his brother Savage as a mere distraction from the war. _"Master Kenobi, we can no longer allow this personal matter of yours to be a Republic concern."_

Obi-Wan had sat in Palpatine's office and had listened with growing frustration at the Chancellors seemingly casual dismissal of all his concerns. The Chancellor had been right, it _was_ personal, but what he'd failed to appreciate was that allowing a Sith driven by madness and revenge to remain loose would have dire consequence for anyone who had the misfortune get in his way.

If it had been in his nature, Obi-Wan would have taken some small satisfaction in knowing that his 'personal matter' had resulted in some very large concerns for the Republic and its leader. Instead he saw it as further evidence of his failure to convey the grave threat he'd known was out there.

What if he had known Maul was on Mandalore? One Jedi against the assembled crime lords and Death Watch was one thing; it might have been overconfidence but he'd believed he could have found a way to rescue Satine from beneath their collective noses.

But against Maul and his formidable brute of a brother? He'd had too many close calls to be so naïve. His last encounter with them had seen the death of Master Adi Gallia, the time before that only it had only been due the unexpected and unnatural alliance of Asajj Ventress that he'd got away alive. Obi-Wan knew that even with the Jedi Council beside him and a phalanx of clone troopers behind, the liberation of Mandalore and the fate of the Duchess would have been far from certain.

What if he'd accepted Anakin's offer to come with him to Mandalore? When he'd explained his need for a ship the younger man had unhesitating given him the Twilight and his help. Even knowing of the missions 'unofficial' nature with the Council, his loyalty to his former master was unwavering. But Obi-Wan had known that while Yoda could turn a blind eye to him going, taking Anakin along would have been a step to far. Disappointed, Anakin had been quick to remind him that it was the kind of foolhardy mission he normally got chastised for. For once Obi-Wan hadn't been able to argue with that.

What if he hadn't gone at all? Satine's tragic fate would have been sealed regardless. Even if she hadn't been a pawn in Maul's possession, Obi-Wan knew with painful certainty that the she would have had no place in Pre Viszla's twisted vision for his new warrior nation.

If only he'd known that Death Watch had fractured and that a separate group was fighting against Maul's tyranny. He might have been able to use them to rescue Satine. Instead of making a desperate bolt to get off Mandalore they could have hid, but for how long could they have avoided Maul he couldn't imagine.

What if he'd taken a different ship? The Twilight was old and more than a little battered but he knew that Anakin would not have let him use his old ship if he doubted it was up to the task at hand.

What if he'd put his left boot on first that morning instead of his right…

Obi-Wan felt let like screaming at the futility of it all. Instead he vented his frustration by slamming his empty mug down on the table, drawing some startled looks from the other diners.

He felt so very tired. He brought up a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tightness there. He stretched his head up and felt his spine protest. The diners' seating seemingly as uncomfortable as a Jedifightercockpit, he'd have to have words with the management.

All this self-recrimination would not change the final outcome, he knew that. He could replay every moment and create a hundred different scenarios for each, knowing how utterly pointless it would be.

No matter how much he reworked events in his mind the endgame would always be the same; kneeling in the throne room, cradling Satine as she took her last breath in his arms…

"_You want a top up, honey?"_ WA-7 was beside him once again, this time holding a carafe of more of the ominous chava chava.

The banal request had him flustered for a moment, _"Top up? Um, yes please."_ The droid retrieved his mug, placed it on the tray in its other hand and replenished it with expert precision.

"_Anything else I can get ya?"_ it asked as it placed the mug back in front of him. _"Breakfast service 'bout to finish."_

"_No thank you__Flo,"_ he replied, using the pet name Dex had given his favourite waitress droid, which he suspected used to be the name of an ex-wife. He gave it one of his most apologetic smiles, which was no doubt wasted on the droid's visual sensors.

He looked down and watched as the liquid in his mug ceased it quivering. As it stilled he saw his reflection forming distinctly in the darkness. The symbolism wasn't lost on the weary Jedi. He closed he eyes and remembered that last, terrible encounter with the dark lord of the Sith…

_To be continued…_

_Thanks all those who've be following this, your patience will be rewarded I promise. Two more parts to come, more angst and the much anticipated return of __Dexter Jettster!_


End file.
